Nightlight

April walked into the living room and leaned over the back of the recliner. "Mom, do you have a nightlight?" she asked. Mom was sitting on the couch with little Teo asleep in her arms.

"I don't think so," she said, not taking her eyes off her grandson, "but you can look around."

April disappeared in the basement. She came back a few minutes later, collapsed in the recliner, and opened a can of Mountain Dew.

"I didn't find anything," she said.

I looked around the room. The Christmas tree still sat in the corner with gifts piled underneath. I eyed the glowing angel on top of the tree. "We could put the angel in our room," I said, pointing.

"That could work," Mom agreed.

April rolled her eyes, but she still sat up in her chair and looked around the room at all the twinkling Christmas decorations.

Later, when I carried Alleke into our bedroom and dumped her on the bed, I noticed that on top of the chest of drawers had been placed a small porcelain nativity with a cord plugged into the wall.

After I put Alleke to sleep, I climbed into bed and turned off the light. The soft light surrounding the silhouette of the holy family would light the room just enough for April to see what she was doing while she fed Teo in the rocking chair during the night. Somehow it seemed more appropriate this Christmas to have glowing baby Jesus at the end of our bed where he was needed instead of leaving him in the livingroom where he was just nice to look at.